You Have My Word
by Afterworld EverDawn
Summary: Lily Luna finds herself caught between grief and romance, her family and her future. Will she choose the path laid out for her, or forge her own destiny? LilyLunaxLysander NEW: Warning, nothing graphic! possible trigger content chapter 5 onward (SPOILERS) death, trauma, #metoo related content to come
1. Seventh Year Begins

The Hogwarts Express was alive with the music of gossip. Lily Luna Potter, seventh year Slytherin, was perhaps rare amongst those who were not engaged in the murmuring. Her cousins Roxanne - Head Girl and Ravenclaw royalty - and Hugo - Gryffindor heart throb and Quidditch king - occupied her cabin. They were largely quiet, reading or studying or, in Lily's case, revising her timetable for the umpteenth time because _no it really would make more sense to take Alchemy, right?_

Of course if pressed, she would deny any altering at all. Lily Luna Potter, after all, was smart enough to take all twelve NEWTs didn't you know? and she'd be damned if she didn't rise to the family expectations.

"Guys!" Lucy came bursting into their cabin, flinging the door aside and beaming, slight of breath and glowing. Hugo, startled enough to drop his papers, looked like he'd just been petrified. Lucy giggled an apology, "Sorry, Hugs - Did you hear though?"

"Hear what?" Roxanne asked, leaning forward with a posture that begged for the juicy intel about to be delivered.

Hugo rolled his eyes, "Really, gossip? Come on Luce."

"Listen Hugs, this is important. So you know your godmum Luna, right Lils?"

"Duh," Lily replied, still half focused on her timetable. Bold interruptions hadn't fazed her since she was four. Brothers like James and Albus had effectively desensitized her to things like that.

"Rude. Anyway, so she and her hubby Rolf had these kids but like, never put them in Hogwarts because he like travels and such and Luna's like totally chill about everything - but guess who's coming to Hogwarts to write their NEWTs!"

Roxanne let out a whistle, "The Scamander twins are attending their final year to write their NEWTs? Oh honey they're so fucked. Do they realize that the since the NEWT Assessment and Revision Committee updated their examination standard three years ago that half the content is on material explicitly discussed in classrooms? Like you can't learn that shit from books alone - professors are more updated then the literature provided seventy percent of the time."

Lily always smirked listening to Roxanne speak. For someone as articulate and referenced in her speech as Roxie, the spontaneous cursing always sounded so comical. Intrigued though by their conversation, Lily piped in, "Shouldn't disadvantage them too much though, given they'll be here for the whole year."

"They've missed sixth year. They have no foundation. I say screwed," Hugo weighed in.

"You always did cheer for the underdogs," Lily quipped, nudging him playfully with the toe of her boot.

Roxanne shrugged, "I'm with Hugo one hundred percent."

Lucy rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically with her whole body. "You three are totally missing the point! Okay, maybe not you Hugs - but ladies! The Scamander twins are like total babes. I'm talking Vogue-and-Paris-Fashion-Week level gorgeous. Do you understand? And like, so totally available too." She pursed her lips together as she smiled, clearly infatuated by the idea of romancing one of them. Lily was sure it wouldn't matter which one.

Roxanne fluttered a hand, excitement evident, "The brunette - I'd tap that."

"I _know_!" Lucy and Roxie shared a squeal.

"How does House sorting work for late transfers?" Hugo wondered, clearly wanting to decrease the estrogen he was experiencing.

Lily laughed lightly, attention trained on her poor male cousin. "Same as us, but in the Headmistress' office. No ceremony. Excuse me," she rose out of her seat and stuffed her folded timetable into her back pocket.

"Lils wait - who would you choose?"

"People aren't steaks Lucy," was her reply.

Lucy and Roxanne shared a look before saying in unison: "The brunette."

Lily rolled her eyes, narrow in mock accusation, "I'll agree if you learn his name," before striding down the train corridor. Anything to get away from the chipper drooling, she smiled to herself.

Her cousins weren't so bad, not really. She was certainly grateful for the times she'd been able to share with them all, given they were in the same year as each other. The Final Round of Weasley's, is what everyone seemed to call them in the early years. Lily had been grouped in with them because of her age, despite being a Potter, despite looking nothing quite like the rest of all of them.

Every cabin she passed by seemed to be comparing the Scamander twins against each other. Students were trying to decide if this was a terrible choice on their behalf, or if having the new students would be a benefit. One cabin was debating whether or not their House should let them try out for the Quidditch team, while another was strongly against the idea that either of the twins could even ride a broom. Lily felt herself heating up just catching all the snippets and that half-buried desire to flee crept up along her spine until she drove her shoulder blindly into a lavatory door to get away from it all.

"Oh my god! I'm sorry!" she apologized, immediately covering her eyes with her hands. She'd mistaken the mens for the ladies and walked in on someone. "I'm so sorry, I'm going, promise."

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

The voice was chopped wood and crackling embers, the smell of forest earth and taste of mint. She could physically feel her chest tighten. Still, she kept her hands in place because she didn't need to be seeing anything indecent. Didn't matter what any of the rumours about her depicted. "Thank you. I'll just, I'll be going - thank you, for not saying, anything," she was fumbling for the door, incapable of turning her back on him, fear and something else rising in her throat.

"Allow me,"

"Yes, I'm Lily," she replied, instantly feeling stupid. She rushed to correct herself, "I mean - I thought you said-"

"I'm Lysander," He cut across her hasty embarrassment and she was grateful. "You probably knew that already though. Whole train seems to."

"I'm actually trying to get away from the gossip. It's stressing me out - not to say I'm undermining how uncomfortable you probably are with all the chatting happening, I just mean ... well you know. Been there done that, _so_ over it."

His chuckle had to be the most incredible sound she'd hear her whole life. She'd thought she'd never hear a laugh she loved half as much as her last boyfriend's, Arlo Mynk. God, who knew it could feel _good_ to be wrong about something? "I've never really paid much attention to people's 'chatting'. White noise, really is what I chalk it up to. Still, too much white noise and the soul starts to squirm."

"Boy do I relate to that."

"You can lower your hands if you want. I won't flash you, promise."

"I've got your word have I?" Lily teased, surprising herself with how relaxed she sounded. She dropped her hands to her sides and looked into his face for the first time. _Oh dear god. And I thought the Dustin Hopkins rumours were obnoxious_.

There was no way she was leaving that lavatory unscathed by every other girl at Hogwarts.


	2. Slytherin Is Queen

The Slytherin Head of House walked into the common room in the middle of Saysha's delicious story about her weeks abroad in Cape Town, complete with reenactments and dramatizations. The gathering of fifth to seventh year girls was in an uproar of giggles and pressing for more details when the kind-faced Professor Limerick cleared his throat and said in brassy monotone, "Ladies, attention please."

Of course there were more than just ladies gathered in the common room, though Lily had to admit the boys seemed quite terrified and stuck to small groups at the edges of the space. It was well after the welcome feast, and while the train had been a nightmare of Scamander Speculation, the moment the train doors opened all the talk switched to summer vacation stories and scandals. With Saysha being the newly crowned Slytherin Queen (a title passed down through the girls of Slytherin House to offset the fact that there hadn't been a Slytherin Head Girl in nearly a century) all the attention was on her, and boy did she deliver. Even Lily couldn't help but cling to her dramatics and flare. In part because she was still human and therefore was not above relishing in fantastic stories; but also in part because it was a miracle she hadn't been burned at the stake after sneaking out of the boy's on the train, Lysander's contact scorching her cheeks from it's place in her bra - the safest place she could think to hide something so ... scandalous. After having walked the length of the train she finally returned to her cabin, where Lucy Roxanne and Hugo rotated between Scamander Speculation, NEWTs, and the first Hogsmeade visit of the year. She herself had been mostly distracted and lied about feeling 'sugar-sick' from Teezy Twists liquorice.

Professor Limerick was about to reintroduce that sugar-sick lie to her stomach.

"As you have all likely heard already, Mr Lorcan and Lysander Scamander will be new peer additions to the school this year. They were absent from the feast to take in an uninterrupted tour of the grounds and to complete their House sorting. In result, Mr Lorcan -"

Lily's heart dropped, and she hadn't even really been hoping for either of them. At least, not that she was aware. She hadn't honestly allowed herself to think about him much. She didn't want her ridiculous blushing to give her away.

"-has been sorted into Hufflepuff -"

 _What? okay, sure, useless information - granted, Luce is probably drooling,_ Lily thought with a smirk, again avoiding her small disappointment.

"- and Mr Lysander has become the latest addition to our ranks."

 _! ! !_ Her heart literally tried to explode in her chest. Lily had never been more grateful to be surrounded by a flock of girls, because her little smile of excitement was invisible in the sea of instant heated babbling.

Professor Limerick held up a hand and the volume dropped to a low buzz. "I trust you will all make him feel welcome, and that his celebrity status does not cause you all to forget that this year you will be tested at the NEWT level. I will reiterate that curfew is ten o'clock, and that the common room is to be emptied by midnight until June."

"Yes professor," the common room chimed.

Professor Limerick gave a small smile, bowed his head once, and left the common room. As soon as the door closed behind him a fifth year piped up, "Was he the one on the September issue of Vogue or was he the one that did Milan Fashion Week?"

"No Lorcan did fashion week, and it was in Paris," A sixth year corrected.

Amy, a fellow seventh year, added, "Yeah I'm positive Lysander was the one on Vogue."

"Do we know for sure it was the September issue? I can look it up on my phone," Susanna, an ambitious fifth year half-blood, began to rummage through her pockets for her cell phone.

"No you can't, we're at Hogwarts. The magic interferes with technology," one of the girls beside her said.

Lily was starting to get a headache, and that itching to escape started to press into the disks of her spine. She started to get up off the couch, intent on heading to the dormitory for some quiet and space, when Saysha lightly touched her arm. "Are you okay Lily? You're quiet."

This is why Saysha made Slytherin Queen. Traditionally awarded in June to a sixth year by the graduating women of Slytherin House, the title came with the similar responsibilities as that of Head Girl, with the obvious exception of being able to dictate Prefects. Slytherin Queen was chosen based on academic achievement, yes, but more importantly was based on whether she was an exemplary role-model for the rest of the Slytherin girls. Essentially, she was supposed to be a figure-head for the idea that Slytherin is not synonymous with evil, but rather with strength and compassion. When Saysha was given the title by Missy Vandersen, it just made sense. Boys could say whatever they wanted about Saysha, but the honest truth of it was nobody was as brilliantly the embodiment of feminine strength as her.

Now, Lily couldn't avoid making eye contact with the girl she'd sat next to that very first night long ago in first year. She had been freshly sorted into Slytherin, and the entire Great Hall was eerily silent except for the cheers of older Slytherin House members in an effort of good-will. Lily could summon the memories of shame and humiliation with a single idea: she wasn't good enough. But when she sat down at that half-heartedly cheering table, she sat next to Saysha Naude, a Muggleborn with a big smile and face many shades darker than her own. Her hair was worked into two buns on the top of her head and she was stunning in her brilliant yellow dress underneath her basic set of robes not then adorned with the Slytherin House crest. "I'm Saysha, my family's from Cape Town. I've never been a witch before, have you?"

She was the first person Lily had spoken to after that fateful Sorting ceremony, and she became someone Lily would always trust with the most intimate secrets. Now, she wanted to tell her everything, the train and the mistaken lavatory, and the contact still trapped in her bra - but there were too many people, and it was too much for the moment, so instead Lily said, "Can we talk tomorrow, your first class is Alchemy right?"

Saysha nodded, kind and open-faced, "I'll meet you by the door."

"Thank you," Lily leaned in for a quick hug and went on her way.

She had just slipped into the hall leading to the girl's wing when she heard the Slytherin common room door open. She watched a group of seventh year guys, who had been enjoying Saysha's stories as much as the girls had been, peel off the wall and quickly usher their new roommate away from the craziness. The entrance to the boy's wing was almost directly across from that of the girls. When Lysander cast a smirk over his shoulder back at the common room crowd, he caught Lily's eyes. Her expression was unreadable, and she turned on her heel and walked off before he could offer her a genuine smile.


	3. Alchemy For Nerds

After narrowly escaping the common room just as the girl's got their first 'up close and personal' look at Mr Lysander Scamander, Lily had the seventh year girls dormitory all to herself. And in typical Lily fashion the first thing she did - after frowning as she double checked that she was the _only_ person there - was do a happy dance. It was brief, occupied maybe five seconds, and then she spun one-eighty on her heel and dropped backward into her bed. She pulled at the elastic holding back her thick black hair and worked it out with her naturally tan fingers. Then, after a couple moments of simply laying there watching to the faint pulse of her heart under her skin, she rolled onto her side and pulled her trunk out from under her bed. Quietly she thanked the House Elf that brought it up, and smiled to herself as she unlocked the protective charms she'd put in place years ago to ensure her real things weren't rummaged through by nosy brothers or cousins.

James hadn't really ever been a huge problem, but Al was a total trouble maker. Half her memories from childhood involved trying to catch him after he'd taken something of hers from her room only to get in trouble for 'cheating' by using magic. ("Your sister is only five Albus, she can't control her magic," was always the warning he got, before she was taken aside and asked to be more careful by her mom. Dad insisted her magic then was of the standard 'accidental' variety.) And between Al and her cousins Fred and Molly, she was always outnumbered in some way.

Leaning half off the bed, she pulled one of her jewelry boxes out of the true interior of the trunk and unwrapped it from the thin grey pull-over that protected the painted glass. She took out her earrings - a pair of simple of hanging gems she'd bought off a market trader over in Budapest last summer - and placed them carefully inside. She added her decorative gold rings, and then placed the jewelry box back away. Then she took out a second, dramatically different jewelry box of sorts.

It was plain and stone in appearance, rougher to the touch, and had come from a far less glamorous place than that beautiful market on a chilly summer morning. Sitting upright, she opened the lid and set it gently down beside her thigh. Then, holding the rest of the box in one hand, she removed the contact from her bra and carefully placed it inside next to the animated silver occamy that slittered around, curious, and peeked up over the lip of the box. Lily's expression in that moment, as she gazed affectionately down at the figurine acquired just over a decade earlier, was tender enough to put anyone who knew her into an intense state of shock.

[][On the way to breakfast][]

In the morning Lily was, as usual, the first person into the bathroom, and the last one to leave it. She showered and dressed quick enough - record time was a mere 5 minutes - but everything else could either be squeezed into ten minutes or leisurely drawn out for almost two hours. Today was a forty-five minute day, because she was stalling.

Saysha came into the bathroom as she was starting her skincare regimen, and left as she was priming her eyelids for her typical eyeshadow _du jour_. (Victorie had always been an idol for Lily, despite the pair of them looking like they came from opposite sides of the world.) Lily knew that her friend was waiting out in the common room, probably talking kindly to first years as they inevitably panicked or fretted over something or other. Or maybe she was helping a fourth year whose boyfriend hadn't written her all summer, or even _texted_ \- damn boys, learn to use your cellphone! Lily felt a small pang of empathy for those girls. Boys were jerks; they didn't give a damn how their actions would effect anyone else. Most of them, at any rate. _Or maybe just the boys I know_ , Lily thought absently.

When she finally left the bathroom - her hair in a messy half-up knot and makeup done in a gently smouldering gold - she hurried to the dormitory, dropped off her toiletry bag, slid her rings on her fingers, and walked out still fastening her earrings, her book bag slung over her shoulder.

Saysha, as predicted, was finishing a conversation with a fourth year Muggleborn student, Leah Prez, when she appeared at the mouth of the tunnel leading off to the girl's wing from the common room proper. Lily saw her friend give the girl a quick hug before she slipped out into the castle. Lily put on a confident face and walked over. Saysha had a classic glamour to her, the way she pulled off emerald green 50's-America styled dresses under her robes, with her hair naturally haloing from the end of her crown braids. The kind of style that made Lily a touch envious, but more in awe that such a fashionista was still humble.

"You were stalling," Saysha started as they headed out into the corridor, making their way to the Great Hall for a late breakfast.

Lily flashed a knowing smile. "You know me so well."

"I like to think so. So spill. What's the deal with you and the Scamander boy." Lily lifted an eyebrow; Sayshalet out a delicate laugh and remarked, "I take the art of divination quite seriously sometimes. My grandmother was an accomplished Seer. Never once mistook a sign for something other than what it was. She brought great honour to her family."

"You're a Muggleborn witch," Lily reminded her with a humoured expression.

Saysha waved away the comment, "With the divine power of deduction and storytelling," she laughed, "and you, my love, were the only girl to leave the room before Scamander waltzed in and dazzled us all."

"His mum's my godmum. Hence 'Lily Luna.'"

"Go on,"

"I haven't seen them in years - like over a decade. They moved when I was six, and they never lived close enough to really visit. Mom kept us in touch somewhat, but after Egypt, nothing."

"The stakes increase," Saysha was practically buzzing with anticipation.

Lily shifted uncomfortably, like she was about to reveal that they had summoned the evil undead and cursed the school. Then, she just forced herself to spit it out already, "And I ran into him on the train."

"What! -wait, what?" Saysha's face settled on displaying confusion. "Sorry, I was expecting something more scandalous, my bad."

"Like Hopkins-scandalous?" Lily glanced around, searching for eavesdroppers. She hated even bringing up Hopkins, and she _hated_ how uncomfortable even just his name made her feel, like her skin was slow roasting over open fire.

Saysha shook her head, "No, that will always be on the Hopkins-stupid level. I was thinking more, Arlo-esque."

"That was fifth year, a dumb choice really," Lily said, in part grateful for the switch in focus, in part trying to hide her creeping embarrassment. Few things could embarrass Lily Luna Potter the way the mention of Arlo Mynk could.

"But a smoking-hot dumb choice."

" _Anyway_ ," Lily redirected her friend back to issue at hand, "that's not what happened. I did run into him though in the mens."

"On the train?"

"Yes," she whispered harshly, the slight hiss begging Saysha to keep a quiet volume.

"And you weren't burned at the stake? How did nobody see you leave?"

"He hid in the stall, I ducked out and practically ran back to my compartment. Nobody knew he was in there, I don't think."

"Oh Lu, your track record is a mess."

"Tell me about it," Lily groaned, entering the Great Hall.

[][Alchemy Class][]

Alchemy wasn't as boring as everyone believed. Honestly, the fact that the majority of students avoided the class increased its intrigue, and contributed to the intense conversations and debates which frequented the small group. Last year, Lily had registered for the class because the only way she would stand out academically was to take every single course to the NEWT level. So yes, she took it to spite Roxanne, who hadn't achieved a high enough combination in her OWL level Potions, Transfiguration, and _Runes_ to enrol. In sixth year, there had only been twenty students interested in Alchemy. Walking into the classroom for the first time in her final year, Lily saw that number had dropped to ten.

"At what point is registration considered 'too low' and they pull a class?" Lily wondered, making eye contact with Hopkins who immediately paled. That made her smile a bit, even if it was mostly malicious. She loved knowing he _knew_ something was going to happen without knowing what or when. _It's what you deserve,_ _sleaze-ball._ She raised a hand and he flinched, knocking his notebook off his desk. Like most people, he didn't know a lot if anything about Lily's innate talent for nonverbal and windless magic, but he did know enough to think twice about crossing her ... or at least, he learned that the hard way.

Saysha shrugged in reply, oblivious to the silent exchange ,and said, "I think nine."

"Well thank god for you then. I know you wanted to drop it."

"I still might, though I do love a hearty argument - debate, whatever," Saysha laughed, "but I'll wait till two weeks in. They won't cancel on you after the first assignments been graded."

"You're a saint and I'm blessed to know you," Lily grinned, taking her seat.

She watched Hopkins shift nervously in his seat from the edge of her vision. It would be impolite of her to stare him down directly. Who knows, he might burst into flames. _Wouldn't that be tragic,_ she thought dully.

Professor Trinellzo walked in from the corridor, a book under his arm and a jaunty gait the indicated he was excited about something. His light blue and deep navy robes flowed behind him and he spun on his heel to take his seat on the desk located at the front of the small room, facing his loyal seventh years.

"Do you think Flamel came back from the dead this morning?" Lily murmured, dead-pan. Saysha covered her mouth and bowed her forehead to the desk, sniffling her laughter.

Trinellzo, with his wide smile and perfect, albeit coffee-stained, teeth beamed at everyone and opened the dialogue with, "Did anyone read the article published in _Accomplishments Alchemy Annual_? It was released this morning so if not that is not to worry - we will be discussing the repercussions of the findings and theories in the lectures to come, no doubt - but it is officially assigned reading, strictly because of it's sheer fascinating potential to crack open several new avenues of intellectual discovery!"

Trinellzo spoke rapidly and with the excitement and energy of a kindergarten-aged boy who received a new bike or broom for his birthday. Lily secretly admired him deeply for this boyish charm blended with an air of professionalism perhaps only comparable to that of Professor Longbottom, and of course for how strikingly handsome he was. Naturally, she refused to indulge any associated fantasy. _Wouldn't that be the perfect headline - Scandals Abound with Slytherin-Sorted Offspring of the Famous Harry Potter._ Lily pushed all _those_ thoughts aside and focused.

Saysha tipped her fingers on the back of Lily's hand. When Lily glanced down there was a slip of paper on the desk that read 'I won't make it two classes, sorry girl.'

The note curled into itself and crumbled into a ashy-grey pile the size of a thumb-nail. Lily smiled understandingly, though she couldn't help the sudden rising-up of disappointment from the pit of her stomach as Saysha strategically gathered her notebook and pen and slipped away as Trinellzo began jotting down information on the whiteboard behind his desk. (He was the only professor with a whiteboard - "to keep up with my racing mind" had been his famous argument for wanting one installed.)

Lily was absorbing everything verbatim, occasionally making a small note of this or that if she thought she might want to look into it later for clarification. She generally preferred to listen. It was less distracting, because she didn't end up doodling in the margins. And she was so enraptured by the lecture that she didn't notice what was happening at the back of the classroom.

On Saysha's way out, she bumped into Lysander Scamander, who had finally found his classroom. Sure, he'd been shown where it was the night before, but _a lot_ had happened the night before, and he hadn't remembered what floor he was supposed to go to for Alchemy. Discretely, they communicated the following information:

1\. class isn't over, I'm dropping out;

2\. yes Trinellzo is always like this, but it's interesting so you'll be fine;

and 3. Sit over there, you'll get the best acoustics and view of the whiteboard (which Saysha mentally translated to: Lily will so love me for this).

So when Lily sensed movement to her left she was immediately hopeful that Saysha had, for whatever reason, changed her mind, and was genuinely stunned when she found herself looking instead at Lysander. Instantly she hated that she would look at him with such a stupid expression on her face - who was she, a giddy first-year? Second, why the _hell_ with all the other seats available was he sitting next to _her_?

For the rest of the lecture she struggled to focus, tried and failed to write down more then what she actually cared to write down, and the moment the bell sounded planned to bolt for the door only to recognize that she'd run straight into Hopkins and she would honestly rather die than have him touch her again. So she sat, rooted to her spot, subtly begging the gods to calm her nerves.

"So what's your next class?"

 _My skin is literally on fire. It_ must _be._ Lily swallowed and twisted in her seat to look at him, stunningly collected, "Transfiguration, then Potions."

His eyebrows lifted, but he looked impressed, "Heavy day."

"You?" It was almost too-quick, and definitely too high-pitched. She scolded herself.

Lysander didn't seem to notice. _He doesn't know me yet, good._ "Charms and Potions."

"Oh grand," _am I eighty?_ she smothered the sudden smile that wanted to come up with that sarcastic self-criticism.

"Save me a seat? I might get lost again."

"Totally," Lily replied. By then rest of everyone was gone. Lily resisted the urge to bolt. Instead, she walked out with her head high and confidence shimmering off her, from her carefully brushed black hair to the feminine sway as she mock-hurried to her next lecture. Lily Luna Potter never ran anywhere, and she certainly never ran _away_ from anyone. In fact, when she had her way, people ran from her.

There's a reason for her reputation, and it isn't one big sugar-sweet history.


	4. Bludgers and Boils

The first weekend of term was concentrated exclusively on Quidditch. Since roughly cousin Teddy's second year Quidditch at Hogwarts had expanded significantly. Alongside the traditional House teams battling amongst themselves, there was now a recreational league which had two or three teams per House depending on turn out. It started with the girls wanting a shot at playing in teams themselves, claiming the boys were too aggressive (they definitely could be) and therefore bumped them out of spots on the House teams. Over the summer following that initial petition, tryout times were posted in common spaces, and now each House has an all girls team and a general rec-league team, sometimes two. Of course, they play for fun and personal growth.

Lily's Slytherin House team played for victory.

She had joined the recreational league for Slytherin in second year, after a summer of questions and torment over how she could have _possibly_ been sorted in - gasp - _Sytherin_ of all Houses. (Remember: by the time Hugo, Roxanne, Lucy, and herself boarded the Express for their very first year seeing a Weasley get sorted into Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw was old hat. Victorie had been a Ravenclaw, and Roxanne joined those ranks with finesse; Albus became a Hufflepuff much to everyone's surprise, but of course Louis had also been sorted into Hufflepuff before him, and Lucy after, so it was what it was. Gryffindor was still the favourite for any of them - Dominique, Fred, Molly, Rose, and James proved that, and Hugo became the final addition to the House. Of course, that happened mere moments after Sorting Hat stunned the Great Hall by merging 'Potter' and 'Slytherin' together as a pair, so nobody was overly sure if the Sorting Hat could be trusted for a while there, until Weasley went to Gryffindor and that only amplified the shame.)

Walking onto that field with an old broom model and her hair pulled into a ponytail that was too tight even though it looked super loose, she remembered how horribly her knees knocked together. She hadn't been good at concealing weakness back then. The nerves were quick to fall off though, because she was a Potter damn it - Slytherin be damned - and her mom, a freaking Harpie, taught her how to ride a broom better than half the others who showed up. She made recreational league by the skin of her teeth, when a fourth year got called on by the House team captain to join their practice instead.

By her fourth year, Lily didn't need an invite to the House team practice. She had a sweet spot secured as one of the meanest chasers ever seen - and not mean as in aggressive. Mean as in 'holy hell where did she come from - how did she not _die_ flying like that?'

Now she was Ellen Day's right hand. Ellen was team captain, taking over after Gregory graduated. She was a beater, and the only one who could kind of keep up with Lily. Murmurings around Ellen's new responsibilities two years back questioned why Lily wasn't made captain, but Lily knew the answer and acknowledged it openly: she played selfishly half the time. Not exactly a leadership quality, she personally believed.

However, Ellen kept her as her right hand because where Ellen was a leader, Lily was an enforcer. Ellen was a soft-spoken yet outgoing half-blood with the perfect blonde hair and blue eyes of a typical UK native. And while she was confident in herself and her abilities, her tendency to listen to all sides before making a judgement was sometimes a flaw rather than an asset. So Lily kept the team in line, and Ellen kept them on track to win. Quidditch was the only place where Lily didn't feel she was different from everyone else. In the corridors people who believed the gossip and the rumours kept their distance from her; in the locker room the team respected her capacity to command attention and respect with dignity. She never yelled, and never used magic. Her mom told her it was her fierce heritage, the 'essence of her soul,' that made people want to pay attention to her.

Of course, Lily only ever talked about the locker room reactions. She didn't want her parents to think there was an ostrasization problem, a trend that highlighted her entire Hogwarts residency.

[][Lucy's POV][]

"We never really played Quidditch. Weren't really sporty people, our family." Lucy was listening to Lorcan talk as she and a small band of other seventh year Hufflepuffs made their way down to watch the Quidditch tryouts. House teams went second, naturally, because the captains liked to scout out the rec league candidates too, now that they were a thing. Lucy didn't really get Quidditch, but she loved the rush and excitement of a massive crowd cheering and groaning in unity over something as exhilarating and simple as a bunch of people on brooms passing a ball. Out of all Grandma Molly's 'Littles' Lily was the only one who played the sport, in fact the only one of the cousins who still did if you didn't count Fred who now played for the Bulgarian Vultures.

Next to Lorcan ( _so dreamy_ ) walked his twin brother Lysander. Lysander didn't seem very talkative, though that didn't make him unfriendly. Just quiet, which she supposed was okay. He was blond though, which really wasn't her taste.

They reached the pitch just as the Slytherins were taking to the air. They had won the Quidditch Cup last year, so they got the first practice slot of nine in the morning. Lucy didn't really see how walking up for nine on a Sunday as a victory, but again, who was she to judge? She was only at the tryouts because Lorcan had wanted to 'check it out' and she was so infatuated that she woke up at six a.m. to make sure her hair looked perfect. She was so grateful it wasn't windy yet. She didn't quite know why Lysander tagged along, until a group of Slytherin guys approached from behind and wrapped him into a cheerful round of greetings. The Hufflepuffs and Slytherins took the stairs together, climbing into the seating towers.

"You've gotta watch Potter-"

"-she's the reason we won last year-"

"-hopefully another Cup win before we graduate eh?"

"-If anyone can she will-"

The Slytherin boys whisked Lysander to their side of bended group; Lucy eagerly, confidently, sat herself directly beside Lorcan. The twelve candidates were divided into two groups of six, one behind Ellen Day and Lily respectively. Ellen was shouting something Lucy couldn't hear, and then the brown ball was tossed into the air and everyone started moving at once.

No matter how different and easy-to-spot Lily looked in the corridors - what with her huge black hair and darker skin and jewelry and so on - the moment she started flying Lucy always struggled to keep tabs on her. One time, she remembered asking Lily why she wasn't team seeker. Lily had replied that being a seeker was boring, which humorously offended Uncle Harry who overheard. Lucy guessed it made sense though. She did have the all time highest points-per-season record.

She looked over to where Lorcan sat, looking largely uninterested by the whole spectacle. It made her smile, somewhat selfishly. _No way Lily steals this one from me._

Lysander, beyond the realm of Lucy Weasley's fabulous fantasy, was seated on the edge of her seat, practically looking like her was going to lean over the railing to get a better view as Lily shot past like a bullet, dodged a beater's misdirected bat by fearlessly throwing her weight over the side of her broom, and scored without missing a beat.

[][Later, in the Great Hall][]

Lily was sitting at the Slytherin table, working on the reading assignment for Care of Magic Creatures. Supper had ended an hour ago, but being the first full week of classes was starting in the morning, nobody was really focused on studying and instead simply wanted to catch up with friends and relax before the grind began. However, when your best friend is also Slytherin Queen and the rest of your Housemates are merely acquaintances, it's easy to be compelled to do coursework instead of gossip. After she'd clean up following tryouts, she'd steadily worked her way through the first round of readings for ten of her twelve classes. Some were more intensive than others (Transfiguration, Potions, Alchemy, Runes) some were too relaxed and that concerned her slightly (Herbology, Charms, DADA) and others were so straight forward it baffled her they even had NEWT level content (Divination, Astronomy, Creatures, History, Muggle Studies, Arithmancy) And of course she had registered for Apparation lessons, but those wouldn't start until after the holidays.

She was so thoroughly engrossed with her work that when someone sat down next to her - so close their knee brushed her leg - she automatically said, "Hey Hugs," because nobody but her family ever got that close to her, and Hugo was always misjudging distance.

"Hugs? Bit physical considering I haven't seen you in a dozen years." Lily immediately pulled herself away from Lorcan as she looked up and registered who was speaking to her. She tried to mask her look of disgust to save face, but it may or may not have been effective. "How's it going god-sis?"

"That's more then you've ever spoken to me. Glad to see you learned to talk."

He chuckled. "You always did have a way with words."

"What do you want?" Lily asked on the heels of a heavy sigh. Her head hurt from all the new information absorbed from the day.

"Just to catch up. Saw you at the practice thing today. You did good."

"You clearly don't watch a lot of Quidditch."

"No, I meant it as a compliment."

Lily gave him an incredible, brow-lifted look, stating bluntly, "I meant it as in 'I did phenomenal' so there's that."

"Bit of a high horse there."

She rolled her eyes and cut to the chase, "Listen, you don't really know me, I don't really know you. I'm busy, so go away."

He leaned toward her; at the same time she leaned away. "No need to be rude darling-" Lorcan cut himself off and stifled a cry of pain. The hand he had extended toward her was swelling and breaking out in nasty, puss-filled boils. The look on his face was satisfying.

Lily began to rise from her seat, and as she did she leaned down close to whispered menacingly, "I said 'go away.' Try to touch me again, and I'll use the hex on something more sensitive then your hand."

Lorcan let out a whimper before he cradled his hand to his chest and left for the infirmary. Lily watched him go, feeling the nearby eyes burring holes in her skin. Her armour was up though, and she ignored them all with simplicity. She was half-way out of the Great Hall herself when Lucy came rushing over and blocked her path.

"Hey Luce-"

Lucy, looking upset, held up a manicured hand to cut her off. "What did you do to him?"

"What?"

Lucy gave a clipped sigh of disbelief, "Lorcan Scamander - Fashion Week god and total dream - what did you do?"

"Why do you think I did anything?" Lily asked, defensive because she knew exactly what she did but she didn't understand why Lucy was mad at _her_ when _she_ didn't know what had gone down two minutes ago.

"Because you always do! This happens around you all the time-"

"-Doesn't mean I did it this time."

"Yes it does! God Lily, you are such a wh-" Lucy pulled her bottom lip into her mouth comically, the way she always does when she's swallowing something she'd regret saying seconds before it's too late. Lily, realizing that Lucy wasn't talking about magic, immediately darkened.

The tension between them could be used to clothesline a person.

Lily narrowed her eyes and dared her with a hiss, "Say it." _And don't lie, because I already know what you were going to say._

Lucy fumbled, speaking with her hands and avoiding eye contact, the way she did when she was nervous and stalling, "All I mean is, you don't need to make it your mission to attract every guy in school. Leave something for the imagination and maybe you wouldn't be the punchline in so many rumours."

"That's a lengthy way to say 'whore' don't you agree?"

"You're not a whore, you're just ... it's like you ..." Lucy sputtered, threw up her hands and decidedly admitted, "Okay fine, yes, I was going to say whore. But what does it matter? People have been calling you a whore since fourth year when you were dating Robert and Will. You're not even phased anymore, you act like it's some weird badge of pride that you've fucked fifteen boys."

Lily's mind went completely still, like a sound board thrown to a hardly audible volume; and the only thought that occurred to her rattled internal voice was _I_ _did not date Robert_ and _Will. I dated Robert,_ then _Will, and three months apart I might add!_ The blood drained from her face and left her a with a slightly sickly colour, but the Hellish resentment that flooded her glittering brown eyes was enough in itself to back Lucy up a couple steps. The entire Great Hall it seemed had stopped to focus on what was going down between the popular Lucy Weasley and fear-inspiring Lily Potter. All Lily could see was her red-haired Weasley-stereotype cousin in vivid definition, and the empty corridor behind her - a blurred endgame.

When Lily spoke, in a voice so even and coldly enunciated, Lucy flinched like every word was a potential jinx. And as she spoke, she took slow, deliberate steps toward her cousin, older then her only by mere months, forcing her to maintain the distance between them. Truthfully, if she let her get close enough, Lily knew she would strike her sharp across the face. It would be more satisfying then any level of freakish magic.

"Do you know who hasn't called me a whore since fourth year? My family. Or maybe you have, I don't practice legilimency. But I have _never_ called you a whore, not even after this summer. Remember that, when you're trying to remember why I haven't said a word to you after today ten years from now."

Lucy had angled herself poorly in her retreat and consequently bumped into the Ravenclaw House table. Her face conveyed more panic then Lily ever thought she'd want to see in those Weasley blue eyes. Then again, she never thought her cousin would believe such horribly unfounded rumours about her, let alone actually voice them. The moment Lily registered that panic, she registered her own crushing, aching pain. It was one that clenched her stomach so tight she thought she would double over retching; so humiliating she thought for a terrifying two seconds that this would be the thing to throw her off the highest castle tower; so consuming she felt like she didn't have enough air and her eyes seared and her hands struggled to hold on to the weight of a twenty-page paper.

Lily Luna Potter, her unmarred statuesque facade, spit at her cousin's shoes and stalked off, head held high and high heels cracking the stone underfoot like a blacksmith's hammer on molten iron. _Let them watch. Let them think whatever they want. I'm better then they'll ever deserve._

 _I just want to die._


	5. Not As Mean As You Think

Her hands trembled as she gently pressed and wiped little cotton rounds over her eyelid. Some of the mascara had run down her cheeks, enough to give her that Bollywood Damsel type look. She hadn't allowed herself to ugly-cry yet though, so she wasn't blotchy. For now. Real crying with mascara on irritated her eyes. Somehow, there was a calming aspect to gingerly removing makeup before crying. Like setting up for a ritual to some ancient deity. This time, the Deity of False Whores and Horrible Cousins.

Lily's lower lip quivered violently, a shaking gasping coming out like primitive begging. She felt her hand lose the ability to hold onto the cotton, but she pressed her teeth into her knuckles and willed herself not to do _this_ , not _here_.

The girl's washroom door opened and Lily immediately froze. She forced herself to stand up straight, remove her weight from the counter, and make a show of how unaffected she was by the events that had happened an hour ago. A mousy looking girl she'd seen once before came into the washroom and looked surprised to find it occupied. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and was turning to leave when Lily stopped her gently.

"Are you all right?"

The mousy girl, a first year with no wizarding ties, stared back at her like she wasn't sure what she should say, or if she wanted to say anything at all. Then she scrunched her braids with one hand, hugging herself with the other, and shrugged, glassy eyed, hiccupping, "I miss my mom."

Lily's heart melted, her own eyes shining as that exact feeling came back to her like she was eleven, sitting on her bed in a dormitory none of her family had ever seen feeling miserable; standing in the courtyard at the front of the class, thirteen, hearing the whispers and taunting; fifteen, getting summoned to the Headmaster's office and finding her Dad standing there with her brothers and knowing something horrible had happened and the only person in the world she wanted to talk to was the only person not there.

Without thinking, she opened her arms and motioned the girl forward, saying softly, "Oh honey, come here," and the girl came and wrapped her arms so fiercely around Lily's slender frame she thought she'd snap in two.

"I miss her so much! And there's nobody here to do my hair and my mom always did it, always! And people say I'll fail magic cause I wasn't always a witch, and I've never been away from home before, and I... And I..." her worries and panicking succumbed to incoherent sobbing. Lily kept her arms around her until the girl pulled back. _Never break a hug first, because you never know how much the other person needs._

"I got my hair done," the girl wiped her sleeve across her face, brushing up in a way that brightened her eyes and cleared her focus, "because Mom wanted me to look perfect for my first day. She thought she would come with me, but that didn't happen, which really sucked. But I met some people, they were nice, but now I'm a Slytherin and they aren't, and making friends is really hard. And I don't know what to do about my hair. Mom always took the braids out so it could relax after a couple weeks but she's not here and nobody else has hair like mine... and, -" that hiccupping, tell-tale of another burst of sobs, came back into her voice. The girl maintained herself, and finished, "and I just, I don't know what to do. I miss everything I used to know."

Empathetically, Lily took the girl's hands in her own and began, "What's your name?"

"Annika,"

"Hello Annika, I'm Lily. And I know it's going to sound kinda lame because I'm a seventh year, but I'll be your friend anytime. I promise. And, because we're friends, I'm going to personally introduce you to my friend Saysha. She's the Slytherin Queen, which is kinda like Head Girl, but better, because she's kind and funny and can do amazing things with her hair, which is exactly like yours."

Annika sniffled, "Really?"

"Oh yeah. It's crazy kinky, super textured, and I've seen her look so glamorous no matter what she decides to try out - crown braids, weaves, corn rows, natural - if you can picture it, she can do it. And she knows how to bring a stylist in to the school too."

"Is that why she's the Queen?"

Lily smiled, a lovely laughing smile that lit up her face, "It definitely looked good on her resume."

Annika smiled, a half-hearted still-sad smile. "I still miss Mom."

"I can relate to that, more than you probably believe. When I was in my first year, I wrote her tons of letters - sometimes twice a day. Honestly, you can never send too many letters. Especially to Mom. And you've never been a witch before, that's what you said, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Well that means you have even more to write about then I did. You know, she doesn't technically count as a Muggle so you can tell her _everything_ even things like turning rats into goblets and the charm for levitating objects, or how you play gobstones. Anything you want, it's all perfectly within the rules."

"I thought magic was a secret though."

"Not with family. And she's Mom, she just wants to be a part of your life, no matter what that looks like. Let her be a part of it, it'll be good for both of you. And worst case, there's Christmas holiday, and spring holiday - and send photos, I can pick you up a simple camera. My mom loved photos."

"What happened to her?"

Annika's question came out of nowhere, though, Lily supposed she had laid the path that led her directly to that conclusion. Lily, not wanting to talk about _that_ right now, shook her head, "Nothing, I just stopped sending photos. We still talk though, all the time." In an effort to avoid any more questions, Lily quickly redirected the conversation back with, "So what do you say, would you like a camera?"

Annika nodded, truly smiling now, "Yeah, I think it would be cool. Will showed me one, it moved. Do pictures still move if Muggles look at them?"

"Muggles? Yes. But your mom will see it move too."

"How?"

"It's very advanced magic, you'll learn about it more in sixth year."

"Cool," Annika yawned, rubbing her eyes and blinking fiercely.

Lily started to the door, "Come on, let's get you to bed. I'll tell Saysha to find you at breakfast tomorrow."

"She'll remember?" the younger girl asked through another yawn.

"Without a doubt."

"Thank you for being my friend Lily. You're not so mean like they say."

Though it was genuine and intended as a compliment, it was still too close to the blowout between her and Lucy, and Lily felt the sting of it in the back of her eyes. _You're not so mean_ , but she wasn't mean, or at least, she didn't think she was. Harsh, maybe; blatantly honest, maybe; stand-offish, absolutely; but then again, who wouldn't be, if they're been through what she'd been through?

"Goodnight Annika," Lily replied politely, holding back the hurt like a professional seeker dives for the snitch at the World Cup.

"Goodnight."

[][In the Common Room, forty minutes later][]

Saysha had come and gone to bed, but true to her word, Lily had talked to her about First Year Annika and her hair concerns. Saysha, upon hearing this, momentarily lost her usual elegant composure and responded giddily that she was going to pen a letter to her stylist for an appointment in a week, and expressed how much fun they (Saysha and Annika) were going to have doing their hair. She was so excited that she immediately moved on to the dormitories, because now she had an early day ahead of her. Lily was grateful, because she didn't want to talk about what had happened, why she wasn't still made-up, and why her jewelry was missing.

The common room was still empty when it hit eleven-thirty, and Professor Limerick - who had popped in for his customary checkup- reminded Lily of the midnight rule before departing for his own quarters. Lily acknowledged him, even made a show of heading to the girl's wing, but the moment he left and the door was heard closing, Lily turned right around and went back to her spot on the couch. She simply couldn't face the darkness. At least in the vast, empty common room, there was a low glowing fire and tapestries, and the possibility that someone else might be struggling with restlessness too and might come out to sit across from her. Unlikely, but possible.

 _You're not as mean as everyone says -_

 _\- Maybe if you weren't such a whore -_

 _\- You should be ashamed of yourself -_

 _\- I heard you and Hopkins had quite the night -_

 _\- Don't you have any self-respect! He's_ my _boyfriend! -_

 _\- You're a FREAK! -_

 _\- Lily Loser Potter, can't even get Sorting right -_

 _\- Lying to first years, really? You never sent a single bloody letter with an ounce of any honest, fucking coward! -_

 _... Miss Potter I regret to inform you ..._

Lily pressed the heels of her hands into her temples, curling her forehead to meet her knees. She just wanted to scream! She just wanted to forget! She just wanted -! She just wanted -? She just ... she wanted her mom.

Like the snapping of fingers hateful resentment turned to gut-punching crying. Her hands gripped thick bunches of hair; and her eyes pressed so hard into her knees she saw nauseating arrays of colour; and for nearly a minute she failed to inhale properly and wondered if her last thought would be wondering if you could actually die from intense emotional ... sadness? misery? (was there even a decent word for this absolute fucking unbearable bullshit pain?) followed by a sudden rushing inhale that sounded like getting the wind kicked out of your lungs.

It took everything in her not to let a dreadful yowling sound past her lips, but swallowing it back almost choked her as she bit down hard on her left pointer finger to keep quiet. How humiliating would it be if she attracted attention in this state? It was humiliating enough to even just exist, why add more fuel to the epic dumpster fire that was her life?

And though it felt like she had been crying for hours, it was only nearly midnight when she reached the point of shaky breathing, short bouts of new tears, and a mousy, heavy feeling that drilled into her bones and made sleeping in the common room seem completely appropriate and totally safe - neither of which are true. Her logical side kept pressing for her to get up, push her hair back from her face and limp off to bed - sleep in, miss classes, whatever, just not to sleep where she was. Her body had a hell of a time finding the willingness to listen, but eventually it did.

She rubbed at her eyes like she was a child, and speared back her hair, feeling where she'd tried pulling it out by sheer self-hatred. Gently she massaged those spots with her finger tips seeing the nasty indents on the finger she'd tried to bite off. It felt painful to sigh, but she managed. She had just successfully risen out of the couch when the door to the common room opened. She was facing the other way, and prayed whoever it was couldn't identify her simply by her black hair. _Not like I look like me, who knows, maybe no one recognizes me without everything on._

Lily started to lumber away, when the other student asked her kindly, "Did you hurt yourself?" She froze, because she knew that voice that sounded like chopped wood and crackling embers, the smell of forest earth and the taste of mint - and she could picture in her mind's eye the charming smile and those handsome brown eyes like the first rays of sunshine after a long-awaited rain.

She didn't know what to say; she couldn't ignore him, she felt. It would be impolite, and even though she knew in her heart without any proof that he wouldn't be mad, she worried still that he would be disappointed if ever he found out later that it was her who had ignored him so blatantly. She didn't want anyone else's voice snarling hateful comments in her thoughts. Certainly not him. He deserved better, or at least, the benefit of the doubt.

"Not intentionally," she replied without turning around, and she heard her voice aloud for the first time since the crying. It made her feel so embarrassed. _It's like I smoke a pack three times a day, disgusting._

"Maybe I can help? I know some healing."

"You can't fix this, promise."

There was a pause, and somehow she knew he realized it was her. The memory of what she'd done to Lorcan came screaming to the forefront of her mind and she suddenly wished she could run to the safety of the girl's wing where he wouldn't be able to follow. Her damn legs wouldn't move though, and she stood there like an idiot while he said, "Lily? It's you, isn't it?"

Reluctantly she turned to look at him, stiff, like she'd been hit by a bat. Working a tired, half-hearted smile loosely to her face she lifted her hands and said weakly, "Surprise."

"What happened?" The look of concern on his face didn't register with her initially; she mistook the questioning narrowing of his eyebrows for accusation and took a step back, hands coming up to ward him off. He put up his own hands in response, just above his belt-line, and also took a step back. "I'm not..." he paused, looking for some word she couldn't pick out for him, "I'm worried. Let me take you to the hospital wing."

Lily shook her head, keeping her defensive stance steady. "I told you this can't be fixed."

"Yeah, but Madam Pomfrey -"

Lily growled, cutting him off, "I'm _not_ going. Don't. ask. again."

Lysander's expression betrayed a slight hurt, and it hurt Lily to know she was responsible. But he wouldn't understand, not that there was anything to understand.

"Side note," he ventured cautiously, continuing as Lily lowered her hands with a curious look, "I thought you were incredible on the pitch earlier. The way you move through the air - how did you learn to fly like that?"

Lily brushed a hand over her face. "My mom was a Harpie and my dad was the youngest seeker in a century. Plus, James and Al, and all my cousins pretty much. Picked it up I guess."

Lysander shrugged with a smile, "I don't know, Lucy was telling Lorcan you're the only one of your whole family 'crazy enough' to fly like that." It was cute, the way he used air-quotes as he spoke Lily thought. It was also enough to make her smile, even if the mention of Lucy saddened her and that of Lorcan brought irritation. She kept those neat and tidy in the back of her mind.

Seeing her smile brightened Lysander's eyes, "I knew you were being too humble. Go on and brag Potter, you're an incredible flyer."

Maybe she was over-stressed, or maybe simply over-exhausted, but she found herself starting to giggle as she took a mock bow and declared, "Why yes I am the most brilliant flyer Hogwarts has ever seen. And the most academically accomplished of all the Weasley-Potters."

Lysander laughed too, bending a knee as he proclaimed, "I am not worthy to be in the presence of such an amazing woman."

"There there, my humble Housemate. If it wasn't for you these last four days would have been a miserably dull affair."

They laughed together, and she extended a hand to help him back to both feet. She could feel the weight of only moments ago completely evaporate off her - noticed only when it was gone how truly heavy it had been. She was grateful, so grateful, for Lysander.

"Well, milady, I should bid you goodnight. We've got Trinellzo in the morning and I need my beauty sleep."

"Well of course. Can't have Vogue's September issue model looking all haggard."

"Fun fact, I never modelled for Vogue, and no - before you ask - I didn't do Fashion Week either. Both Lorcan. I was at a sanctuary my great-grandfather founded helping with the research of Thestrals."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Lily began, embarrassed that she'd confused him for his (assclown) brother.

Lysander brushed off her concern, thinking she was apologizing for him having seen and accepted a death, "Oh don't worry, I can't see them. That was part of the research. How those who can't see them interact or coexist with the creature. Really interesting actually. Felt like an actor in one of those epic Muggle films with all the CGI."

"Oh cool! That sounds way more productive then my summer."

Lysander smiled, turning his head to the side slightly. Was he blushing? She couldn't tell, and her tired eyes should not be trusted right now. "Well," he said, looking back at her again, "You'll have to tell me what you did this summer sometime."

"Sometime, maybe," Lily agreed.

"Totally." Lysander watched her as she started away toward the girl's dormitories, his hands sliding into his pockets casually, a yawn bubbling up and escaping. She wasn't walking with a limp-of-sorts, and she seemed more ... herself? relaxed? Who was he to say though, he hadn't seen her in ten years. _She's amazing though,_ he thought, _truly incredible. Grateful she stood up for herself too. About time Lorcan got told._ "Goodnight, Lu," he called, the nickname rolling off his tongue without thought.

He couldn't see, but Lily smiled softly. _Haven't heard that one in a_ long _time._ "Night, Ly," she replied in kind, and disappeared around the curve of stone wall.


	6. This Is Not Gossip

Lily laid still, pretending to be asleep, as the other seventh year girls got up and dressed and began their Monday morning. Truthfully, she didn't think she had the energy to even lift her head off the pillow, let alone dig out a fresh pair of robes and clothes to wear. Above all, she was dreading the moment she would have to see what a hardcore cry-sesh had done to her face -

 _Oh my god, Lysander saw me like this too!_

She muffled the groan with her pillows she rolled over and sat up, unwilling to even entertain that thought beyond the fact that it was, well, a fact. Yesterday was yesterday, she told herself. Leave it alone.

So she pushed off her quilts and pulled on a pair of black leggings and a long sweater-dress that would fit under her school robes, and grabbed her toiletries. On the way to the girl's bathroom a sixth year, Amanda, glared at her. Lily, unimpressed, lifted an eyebrow as if to ask 'can I help you' in a slightly confrontational way. Amanda redirected her attention and quickened her pace to pass. _Whatever, cow._

In the bathroom, Lily was relieved to see that her eyes were essentially unmarred by the emotional onslaught of the night before. A little puffy, sure, but at least there were no black shadows. She cleaned her face as usual, applied a subtle earth-and-gold eyeshadow and mascara, and decided that today less was more in terms of self-presentation, so she skipped everything else. Back in the dorm, she put on her rings, bracelet, and earrings, and shrugged into her robes. She was walking out, hands fixing her hair haphazardly while she balanced her bag on her shoulder, when she backed up and dug out one extra thing from her trunk, tucking it safely in her pocket. _For good luck, hopefully_. She locked her trunk with a quick charm, and prayed the bad feeling in the pit of her stomach was only there because she was starving - even though she knew that probably wasn't the case. After all, it's not every day she needed old good-luck trinkets to feel secure.

Halfway across the common room Lily's departure was interrupted by Saysha's abrupt re-entry. She looked out of breath and marginally upset, her eyes wide and searching. When they landed on Lily, she let out a sigh of relief. Before she could speak however Lily had taken an offensive stance and demanded, "What happened?" She might have exhaustion lingering in her bones but _nobody_ hurts with her best friend. Her fingers twitched just thinking about what she'd do to that stupid son of a -

"Nothing, I'm okay - really, it's you - I'm worried about you."

 _Woosh_. Lily could practically feel the force of the seconds earlier energy returning to her body to lay in wait for the next opportunity. On the surface, she asked for clarity. "Worried about me? Why, what's going on?"

"I want to hear everything from you. I saw you were upset last night but I know you don't like talking when you're like that so I didn't press you but I need to know what I need to know to stand confidently beside you."

"Saysha, what's happening out there." It was no longer a question, because Lily could feel the irritation returning and flashes of the nasty argument with Lucy flickered in the back of her mind.

"It's all rumours and gossip, as usual - but -" Saysha held up a hand gracefully to stop an interruption. "But - people are calling for your expulsion and a ban on wandless magic. Whatever happened last night, you don't deserve to be expelled - absolutely _not_! - but I've learned that you don't lie when it comes to these things and right now I need all the truth I can get. I'll advocate for you, whatever you need, but I can't be blind out there."

Lily took a long, low, steady inhale, exhaling with the same rigid control and held her silence. Calls for her expulsion, really. _Wow, how proud of me are you now eh Mom._ A ban on wandless and nonverbal magic instruction wouldn't happen; it would be counterproductive especially considering the general difficulty the majority display with mastering even basic spells without use of a wand - but expulsion?

Could she be expelled, realistically?

 _It was_ _self-defence, they'd understand that._

 _But only if you can explain yourself._

 _Can I explain myself?_

Lily pursed her lips and looked at her best friend of going on seven years now, and felt both solidly stubborn and desperately defeated. She chose to showcase the former. "Whatever they're saying must be true."

"Bullshit Lily-" But Lily cut her off with a firm shake of her head and raised hand curled to a point.

"No, don't. Don't align yourself with me. You're the freaking Slytherin Queen. We need you - me at eleven years old needed a Queen like you so please don't ostracize yourself to help me fight my battles. Think of Annika, and the third year whose dumb boyfriend can't answer a text, and the second year whose parents are mid-divorce. They need you-"

"And I need you!" Saysha shouted, a move uncharacteristic enough that Lily looked genuinely stunned to have witnessed it. Very sternly, Saysha continued, granted at a lowered volume, "You're my best fucking friend, Lily Luna Potter, so smarten up and stop being such a goddamned martyr! Explain Lucy, explain Lorcan, and do it now before there's no food left in the Great Hall."

A million different ways to explain everything Saysha was asking for exploded silently in her mind. For a split second, sewers overcome with a hugely inappropriate urge to laugh at how Saysha sounded swearing - something she literally never does. Then again, she'd never seen Saysha so brutally confrontation, and so she stifled the giggles and stomped down her lips' attempted smile. Not that that was overly difficult what with the thoughts bursting in her head. It really made Lily wonder though if she'd win in a fight against her where magic wasn't involved.

"I'm waiting," Saysha reminded her, her posture very business-like, hand perched on her hip in anticipation.

Lily opened her mouth and felt an icy cascade flow down her body from the back of her neck to her ankles in a way that left a lingering trail of gooseflesh behind. _Come on! How hard is it? All he did was-_ "-get too close after I made it clear he needed to back off," _and then Lucy -_ "-called me a whore which fucking hurts because she has no idea-" _what I've been through in my private life -_ "not that anyone else does either -" _and -_ "he deserved it." Those three words were so simple on their own. Together, they were dangerously powerful. Lily, feeling that autonomy and power sink into her bones in place of the fatigue of yesterday, she reaffirmed strongly, "He deserved it. All of it. I regret nothing, and I'd do it again, without question. Same for Lucy, family or not."

Her legs took on that same fear-induced icy tingling sensation again but she stood her ground and waited for the bare-bones truth she'd given to be met with blunt rejection.

Saysha said nothing for nearly a minute. Every passing second wrenched Lily's flight instinct closer to snapping. Then she said plainly, "Sounds like they both deserved what happened."

"Listen-! Oh ... well, yeah," she fumbled out of her readily prepared self-defence awkwardly.

Saysha indicated they move from the door, and led Lily over to the mouth of the girl's dormitory tunnel. "I'm concerned about your reaction though. That's a lot of anger over a personal bubble breach. I mean, absolutely he shouldn't have done it, but I just feel like there's maybe more to this than just him." This comment was met with a stonewall face that betrayed nothing. Saysha continued in her whisper, "You don't have to tell me, but I hope you know that you can, no matter what it is. I'll be whatever you need me to be, even if what you need me to be is your best friend who only knows the necessary details. What I'm saying is you don't have to protect me all the time. I'm powerful too."

Lily smiled sadly, wishing she could let down her walls enough to release the burdening weight of her secrets. Instead she said, "You remember back in third year when we said boys were jerks and we'd just marry each other? And then you found Marcus weeks later and I met Will like two months into fourth year?" Saysha nodded, a subtle nostalgic smile playing in the furthest corners of her lips. "Well, boys are still jerks. Even when you do everything you're supposed to do, boys are still jerks."

She knew Saysha could relate to that. Her three year relationship with Marcus ended after he was caught snogging Tyrell Urlsen in an empty second floor classroom last year, and it had destroyed her emotionally to know that someone she had loved so deeply had been lying to her about something as important as physical attraction. Her faith in communication was still under reconstruction, despite all the outward grace with which she'd handled the situation in the months after. She hadn't even spread his secret around, something Lily always noted as a strong indication of her friend's moral character. "Oh Lily," Saysha hugged her friend tight; Lily, uncomfortable with physical touch but also in desperate need of tangible support, hugged her back awkwardly, caught in a place of fearing judgement and 'who-gives-a-fuck' thinking.

 _And I'm the reason Carmichael doesn't attend Hogwarts anymore too. It all ties into this current bullshit. The Will and Robert thing, Mynk, Hopkins - it's a miserable pattern that I can't talk about._ Lily felt bad for adding Arlo's name to the list, because he had been significantly better than the rest of them, even if he still wasn't that great. "It's not that I don't trust you, it's that..." _why is this so hard? Why can't I just say what I want to say!_ but she bit her tongue against the threat of glassy eyes and tears and pressed on bravely, "I'm afraid." _And I don't need another reason for people to look at me with that stupid pity look they reserve for outcasts and freaks._

"Lily, I ..." Saysha sighed heavily, not knowing what else there was to say. Maybe, there was nothing else. Instead she switched tracks and said, "You're not going to like it out there today."

"I know," Lily matched her sigh.

"You'll be okay though. And you know how to get a hold of me."

"I do," Lily said, a small smile taking up home on the left side of her lips. She let down her mental guard and sent out a small thread of gratitude. When it reached Saysha, she saw it as a soft yellow bubble that popped like a cloud of flour. "You're the best friend I'll ever have."

"You, me, and Helsinki," Saysha said with a laughing voice, reciting an old inside joke from the summer between fifth and sixth year.


	7. To Worry or Not to Worry

_Goodnight Ly,_ her voice pressed into his memory like the petals of a rare flower pressed between pages of an old book, and he gently tucked it discreetly on a shelf surrounded by similar tomes dedicated to her. Her voice stood out like a classic script, each word memorized with time and patience; the way her smile melted upward into her eyes the shade of sunlight breaking storm clouds; or of the notes in her laughter tumbling over grassy knolls in the teasing winds of autumn. These beautiful imaginings swelled in his chest. Even those moments from a lifetime ago, of a small foreign-looking girl with her red-haired mother, damp from a puddle and insistent he let her into a haphazardly constructed fort - she had baffled him, even then. This onslaught of nostalgia and remembering made it difficult, so difficult, to find the ability to fade into sleep. He couldn't stop smiling. He couldn't stop seeing all her sadness and all the weight of things he couldn't see vanish with a simple compliment. A simple acknowledgement. He hadn't known until then that someone could have sharp edges and a featherlight-fearlessness at the same time. A warrior and a worrier, and oh so incredible...

Movement in the boys dormitory and a rough hand on his shoulder by a fellow Slytherin woke him. "Up and at 'em Scamander," Lenny Oldswell declared as he strode toward the bathroom. _When did I fall asleep,_ Lysander wondered, trying to creep closer to the moment when his brain finally released him from his adoration enough to drift off. His attempts were fruitless.

He got up, and shaved quickly before hopping into the shower. As he dressed, doing a quick smell check on a shirt he couldn't remember if he'd worn yesterday (he had) before selecting a different one that was cleaner, he asked Lenny if there was a cologne he could borrow. "Apparently I forgot mine," Lysander explained as Lenny tossed him a bottle of Lacoste.

"Don't use too much - Emily will hate me for 'wasting' it," Lenny said with a chuckle as he grabbed his school bag and left.

Lysander, assuming Emily was Lenny's girlfriend and the one who bought the cologne for him, gave an understanding nod. He smelt the fragrance and decided it just wasn't quite him, setting it back on Lenny's shelf. Maybe he'd send Mum some money and she could send him a bottle of something else. It wasn't hugely important, but all of a sudden he felt the need to be as properly dressed as possible. _Calm down Lysander,_ he told himself, _it's just Alchemy with Lily - with Trinellzo._ He gave his head a shake and straighten his collar another time before he left the dormitory.

[Poster-Plastered Protests]

Lily left the Slytherin common room in stride with Saysha. _No turning back now._ She held her head high and walking, as she often did, with a distanced purpose. She was confident, and powerful, and good. She was good, a good person. Anything else was all lies and half-truths. _That's my story and I'm sticking to it,_ she decided. The damage wasn't immediately obvious. As usual, the dungeons are typically empty this time of day (really most times of day) but those she did pass either turned and looked away or glared at her head on. Most turned away, out of fear. She could sense it the way she could smell Grandma Molly's cooking from down the laneway. They were hella upset, but when faced with the opportunity to do something, they all seemed more content to cower.

This seemed to be the case by and large, until they got closer to the Great Hall. That's when Lily could start to hear anger and unrest, and shouting that wasn't the accumulation of voices happily talking over each other but instead the unified surging of protest and debate. Saysha clutched Lily's arm tighter, but Lily, increasingly unable to maintain her facade, slowed in stride until she came full stop one staircase upward to the Great Hall away.

"What do you want to do?" Saysha asked, her face open and concerned but also fierce and defiant.

 _I can't take on all of them. I don't want to take on all of them. If they think I'm dangerous and I lash out then they get to be right, and they aren't right they're wrong. Lucy is wrong._ "I don't know. I'm not really hungry," but her stomach chose that moment to grumble and Lily knew both of them had heard it.

"What if we just duck in, sit at the end by the door?"

"Will that work?"

"Best shot. Worse case-"

"-steal the muffins and run," Lily finished her best friend's thought with a grim smile. It was something they'd done frequently enough that it became coined in their personal vocabularies, and they applied it to similar situations as a joke.

Saysha nodded, taking Lily's hand squarely in her own and took three steps upward when Lily resisted. "What if - I mean I can do wandless and nonverbal and whatever, but what if they ambush me? I can't take on a thousand wands."

"They're trying to have you expelled because you're apparently dangerous. Hurting you with magic deliberately would _definitely_ get them expelled which isn't really their endgame."

Despite Saysha's obvious logic and correctness Lily still felt uneasy and hesitant. However, she was also Lily Luna Potter, and she dared someone to try and pull something. Head high, chin up, walk fierce! oh, and keep your hands in your pockets, she decided and tucked them into the folds of her robes, fingers gently, anxiously, brushing over the hilt of her applewood wand.

At the top of the stairs, Lily could feel the air change. The suddenness with which everything materialized was akin to falling from a broom mid-flight and landing hard the wrong way. Actually, she thought she'd prefer to fall a hundred feet instead of walk ten feet forward.

Saysha had stepped ahead of her though and Lily, determined to protect her best friend from making a horrible reputation-ruining decision, quickened her stride to walk in ahead of her. Something about her robes sweeping behind her as she entered the hostile, poster-plastered battleground ahead of the Slytherin Queen made her feel like a warrior. _Be a warrior then Lily_ , she instructed herself. _Be a warrior._

The Great Hall had changed overnight. There were posters littering the tables between platers of food demanding the expulsion of Lily Potter; claiming she was dangerous; demanding wandless magic cease being a feature of the curriculum; demanding justice for Lorcan Scamander. Everywhere but the Slytherin table groups of students had formed and were in heated discussion, gossiping and debating facts. For the most part, the Slytherins were watching the commotion, gathering in smaller groups, talking more discreetly. There was a significant group gathered politely around Lysander, asking him for the truth, though Lily could only see how Lucy was angrily retelling her version of what had happened last night. "... and if she can attack someone in her _own family_ then who else is actually safe?"

 _That hurts Luce,_ Lily felt the punch of those words, those accusations, fresh as if she'd been hit by a stunning spell.

There was no time to process her feelings fully though. Abruptly a seventh year Gryffindor girl, Emily, with porcelain scarred skin and blue eyes dashed in front of her, careful to check her distance and ensure her backup girls were in position. The taller girl folded her arms and declared, "You're not welcome here."

In that half-minute Lily decided what her game-plan was and replied, "In the Great Hall." Lily was sure not to frame it as a question. She said it plainly, with the goal of drawing attention to how absurd Emily was behaving. It seemed to work, because Lily watched a faint blush creeping under her cheeks.

"We don't want you here," one of Emily's accomplices sneered in the interim.

Lily lifted an eyebrow and, like she'd raised a hand to strike her, the accomplice backed up a step. Lily bit back a smirk, aware that this was not the time to be cocky, no matter what image she was projecting. Instead she said plain but firm, to all of them, "I don't want you in my business, and yet here we are."

Emily, aware as well as Lily was that the Great Hall had dampened to a murmur, glanced to her left where another group of students stood, this one mostly comprised of boys. Then she looked back at Lily hotly and said, "We're petitioning to have you expelled for practicing life-threatening magic on another student."

"Tell me more," Lily replied, the indifference in her voice an entirely different from the undertones of panic hidden behind her sharpened exterior.

"You sent Lorcan Scamander to the Hospital Wing last night with third degree burns on his arms -"

"No, they were boils. Please have your facts right before accusing me of something."

"Emily narrowed her eyes, clearly frustrated now. " _Fine_ , boils then. All over his arms-"

"Arm, singular,"

"Arm then!" Emily snapped, rushing forward, "You hexed a perfectly innocent student in an attempt to show off because you're a horrible human being that frightens first years and gets away with horrible behaviour because you're daddy's famous. Well guess what, _Potter_ , you're a disgrace to his legacy and you're going to be expelled-"

Saysha, having heard more than enough and no longer willing to be confined to the sidelines of this verbal attack, made to step forward and defend her best friend. Sensing her friend's intentions, Lily shot out an arm and stopped her, unwilling to take her eyes off the groups min front of her because people like these were exactly the sort to jinx you when your back's turned and call it a fair fight. Her abrupt jolt forward was enough to cut Emily off again, possibly coupled with the sudden appearance of Lily's hand, palm faced deliberately toward them - despite the fact that this isn't exactly how wandless magic works. Not that most people were actually proficient in the art.

It felt like the entire room was focused exclusively on her. It was so quiet Lily could've heard an owl rustle it's feathers up in the windows. She took a single breath, and rattled off the following:

"If you're not going to attack me with evidence and facts, then I'm not going to stand here and listen to you insult me. If you're going to defend someone new and famous because of some Muggle fashion magazine without understanding what actually happened in the time leading up to the incident then this exchange is _over_. Never have I ever used magic beyond the realm of self-defence, and if being a horrible person is characterized by protecting oneself then I'm the worst of all of us. I'd like to see you receive hateful comments at eleven years old because some old hat put you in the 'evil house' you pathetic Barbie."

And then she summoned a muffin to her open palm - the yelps of shock falling on deaf ears - locked eyes with Lysander _(don't look at me like that)_ turned sharp on her heel and left the Great Hall. Saysha, watching Lily go, looked back at those Gryffindors who'd confronted her and raised her hands, wand in one, and wiggled her fingers like she was telling ghost stories. "She's right you know," Saysha remarked, giving Emily - who she'd never personally liked much either for various reasons - a once over before finishing, "you do look like a Barbie."

Over at the Slytherin table, some sixth and seventh years cheered for that brilliant burn. Saysha went to sit with them, feeling triumphant, and understanding her friend needed the space to process and that she would find her when she was ready to dissect what had happened. She only wished she could do more. She felt so ... useless, in this situation. Glancing up from a budding conversation with fellow seventh year Adrian, Saysha watched Lysander slip out of the Great Hall. _I hope you know what you're doing new guy._


	8. Nolite te bastardes carborundorum

Lily was walking away from the Great Hall, and simultaneously fighting her desire to walk away from Hogwarts all together. _Nolite te bastardes carborundorum,_ meaning _Don't let the bastards grind you down._ She'd read that somewhere. Or watched it at some point. She couldn't remember, at least not right now. All she knew is she was four steps from the turn that would lead her down a corridor, through a courtyard, and down to the lake were she could drown in peace. Her whole family probably knew by now what had happened last night. She didn't hold much esteem in Lucy's character to think otherwise. Coupled with her silence on the transaction of events, it made her look guilty of the decided crimes, and Roxie and Hugo would ultimately side with Lucy because that's just what family does when one individual is causing continuous problems: side with the people who aren't going to get in trouble. But just as she was about to turn and test her aptitude for swimming, that cynical, powerful quote _(the Handmaid's_ _Tale!_ ) came screeching to the front of her thoughts, instantly drying the tears that had been pooling in her eyes.

Without breaking stride, she turned the opposite way and continued toward her Alchemy classroom. She'd be a bit early, but nothing said a freed schedule like a school-wide isolation-induced scandal. Ha! She could almost feel the injustice freezing her heart, sinking deep to halt the pain and numb the consequences of her stubborn silence. If only she could tell someone the whole truth, the entire history of her, without ridicule or pity or questions - but there was no one left to talk to.

Then, approaching from behind, the sound of shoes hitting stone at a light running pace. Without hesitation, Lily spun around, her robes flaring out around her like the unfurling of gothic wings, her wand out, body poised, and ready to -

"It's just me," Lysander stopped so fast he kind of slid across another stone, his hands slightly raised and chest rising and falling from the unusual early morning exercise. _God she's stunning._ "I come in peace." Her face was entirely unreadable; her eyes dark and bright, lips set in a straight line as she tucked her wand back into her robes, silent.

 _Why is he here? I wonder if he knows his hair's sticking out over his ear?_ she thought to herself, unaware that he was committing her to memory at the same time as she was struggling between choosing to protect herself bitterly, and her natural inclination toward hopefulness and good faith in people.

"No worries, I understand why you'd be prepared. Unfortunately I'm on your side, _so_ you have to be nice."

Lily exhaled on an admixture of smile and defeat, "Guess that's true, eh?"

Lysander grinned, slipping his hands effortlessly into his pockets. "So you're on your way to Trinellzo's lecture?"

Lily gave a nod, suddenly feeling a little more self-conscious about her minimalistic makeup choices. _He probably doesn't even notice. Remember, he's also seen you with handlebar ponytails and he's still talking to you after what happened last night so roll with it._ "Yeah, it'll be nice to only have _eleven_ people glaring at me for an hour," she said it with a short laugh that didn't quite mask the bitterness she felt about the whole unnecessary ordeal. She was exhausted by the day already, and she just wanted to go home. _Where is home?_

"Well, technically only ten people will glare," Lysander amended, and, noticing her moment's confusion, added, "because there's twelve of us total and I won't be glaring so..."

"Thank you," Lily replied, genuinely grateful for his friendship. It lasted less than a split second, but long enough for her to register the want to lean against him for support, for comfort. She didn't.

They walked largely in silence, the only real sounds being distantly moving students and the unintentional striking of Lily's heeled ballet-style shoes. As they moved, Lily wondered what it was Lysander saw in her. She could remember him, faintly, from childhood, like old yellowed photographs forgotten under a stream of light pouring in from gapped shingles. She could remember him, clearly, from the train, the fact that the first reunion with him had been by the sound of his voice in a space forbidden to girls, how he smiles in his speech, and the easiness about him telltale of a life that has been largely kind. What then did he see in her, the youngest of the Weasley-Potter flood of offspring, the outcast in every circle she had rights to partake in - and to meet him again at _Hogwarts_ of all places, where she was miserably trapped by legal requirements to complete school ... if only she had met him a year from now, in Budapest, or some other city where no one knew her by name...

"Lily?"

Lysander was looking at her, head tilted as if concerned, like she hadn't heard him the first time he'd spoken because she was too engulfed in her own pity party to pay attention. She had felt secure enough walking next to him to drift away on a thought train. _Now that's something new, isn't it,_ she mused contently.

"Hm? I didn't hear you."

"Trinellzo posted a note on our room, the class has been cancelled."

"Excuse me?" Without thinking Lily grabbed the page from Lysander and read it for herself.

 _I sincerely regret to inform you all that Alchemy at the NEWT level will not be offered this year due to a diminished enrolment. However there are options that can be discussed by appointment in my office should you find Alchemy to be a required course for your future career aspirations. I will be available between 12 and 5 this afternoon to arrange those appointments as necessary. R. Trinellzo._

"There were enough people on Friday. This is bullshit!" Lily crumpled the page and launched it at the door where the paper smoothed itself out and refastened itself to the wood unscathed. _Am I upset because I was looking forward to the class or because I was looking forward to finally having someone actually acknowledge me with an ounce of pride for doing something amazing? Does that even matter? I wouldn't be recognized anyway!_

"Lily-"

"What? What do you want? Why are you even here Lysander? Do you believe the rumours or not? Like what do you want from me?" She snapped without thinking, and immediately wished for the floor to swallow her whole. How could she have just done that? How could _she_ just lash out at someone as kind and genuine as Lysander? The silence that hung between them was palpable. Fumbling, close to tears again, Lily tried to apologize, "I didn't mean - I shouldn't have yelled at you, I'm not - You're not the one I'm angry at-"

"I get that you're angry, you have that right. Of course you do. But don't think I'm like Lorcan, or that I'm only hanging around because I _want_ something from you like you're a shop. I'm trying to be supportive, and not just because I like you, but because it's who I am _as a person_. If it had been anyone else, I'd support them too, because I know my brother. I know what he's capable of doing to people."

Lily stepped back, entirely defensive now, angling away from him like she was about to run off. When she spoke, her voice was hardly above a whisper; unintentionally, she betrayed her fears, because part of her knew exactly the answer to her responding question: "What do you by that?"

Lysander ran a hand down his jawline and brushed the back of his hand across his mouth, a grim expression painting his face and for the first time he looked like he had something desperate to hid too. Something dark and nasty that shouldn't ever be allowed to know the meaning of the light of day, let alone see it. And yet ...

"He's hurt people. I don't know how many. All girls. I've tried to stop him. Or change him. I _can't_ -" his voice broke, and he was no longer looking at her. There was so much emotion trapped between them it was physically suffocating. Lily was torn between feeling validated and disgusted and she didn't know which part of her would win, and she didn't know which part of her she _wanted_ to have win. To be angry with Lysander for not succeeding? To be angry at Lorcan for daring to-? To be disgusted with herself for being transparent enough to have someone figure everything out, everything she'd tried so hard to keep locked away in the dungeons of her heart?

Lysander, speaking toward the floor, managed to continue, "I don't know what else to do. He said he'd be different. I believed him. And now you - and Lucy -"

"Don't worry about Lucy-"

"Excuse me don't tell me-!"

" _We_ will protect her!" Lily rushed to cut him off to finish her thought. _After everything she's ever done to you, you'll still stand in_ his _way to save her._ And Lily knew for a fact she would, without hesitation or thought, she would always protect her family. _Even if they're never there to protect me._

Lysander held her eyes with his. Lily refused to look away. All of her vulnerability was gone, tied up in the trunk of her mental car like a hostage. Anger and Pride were driving now, and damn were they in control. "Nothing I've ever done has worked."

Lily wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. She refrained, and settled for a very stern tone and unflinching eye contact with a dash of Alpha attitude. "Listen to me Scamander, you've never tried things my way. I'm going to tell you two things right now, and both of them will be true. Number one: Alchemy is cancelled because Dustin Hopkins, a Slytherin in our year, dropped out, because the thought of having to endure a class that small with me was enough to make him run scared, and he should run scared from me - it's a story for another time. Number two: Families are subject to Unforgivable Actions like wizards are subject to Unforgivable Curses - use one, and you go to jail. Do not pass Go, do not collect 200 dollars. Write them off, and move on. Lucy, hurtful, absolutely. Lorcan, _Unforgivable_. Doesn't matter how much you love him - love him all you want, but it's time to cut ties. He isn't slutting around, he's _destroying_ people's lives, and he's clearly not willing to change. So you're with me, or you're against me, and either way, I'm going to win."

Fluidly, she turned on her heel with the last word and started off down the corridor.

Lysander watched her for a half-second. Watched the way her hair moved in a loose half-up fashion; watched the feminine sway of her hips as they carried her away; watched the fierceness of her voice translate into the posture of the fearless flyer he'd witnessed from the Quidditch pitch the day before. For a half-second he felt like he was seeing both his past and his future; the foreign looking girl with her pale ginger-haired mother taking the Occamy off his father's mantel at six years old, and the brilliant woman who was going to change the world with her unwillingness to settle for being less-than. All these thoughts - all these intense emotions he had for her and his family, and the weight and consequences of all his choices from those last words she spoke going forward swirled around him like a hurricane and he just -

Breaking free of his mental spin-out, he followed after her, calling out to stop her without overthinking. He knew what he wanted, knew what he wanted out of life and for himself and his family. The truth wasn't going to go down smoothly, but it was necessary, and he made his decision the moment he called her full name, "Lily Luna Potter." He said it like a statement because he was no longer going to question himself. Going forward, they were on a mission, and it was them against the rest.

She stopped, looked back, and found Lysander almost immediately behind her, so close she had to crane her head to meet his eyes. "Yes?"

"Permission to kiss you?" He felt so awkward saying it, but it felt right at the same time. He wasn't the Prince Charming type to take someone into his embrace and tip them back in a huge romantic gesture. He also knew he'd be hexed on the spot because she wasn't that Damsel-in-Distress type of girl.

Lily's heart beat in her throat; her whole body froze; and every single thought she'd been sorting and organizing fell off the assembly lines of her mind into chaotic heaps of wreckage. The only thing she could focus on was a singular question that should have been easy to answer but wasn't: _What do I do?_


End file.
